Plaga in Origin
by GronHatchat
Summary: We know that Ramon Salazar was manipulated by Osmund Saddler into unsealing the Las Plagas from beneath Salazar Castle. This is my writing of that story, of the events that led to Resident Evil 4. In a way, it's almost Resident Evil 4 Origins. I intend for this to be multi-chaptered. )
1. Chapter 1

"Tea? Tea?" The man sitting at the southern end of the long dining table gave a booming laughter, one filled with most highly attuned amusement. "Tea, Salazar? How clichéd can you possibly derange yourself, my friend?"

Ramon Salazar clenched his fists beneath the table. _How clichéd?_ That was insulting, and uncalled for. He had gone to great lengths to provide well for this dinner, and he would not tolerate having his choice of drink insulted before him.

"It's the finest tea, imported from West India Rorech Preservation, made from the finest Tabbernacky Sugar Leaves. It is probably the most distinguished of-"

"Salazar, why?" The old man shook his head softly, his eyes closed, a smile upon his lips. He was fingering the bright purple business tie that attached to the fine black tuxedo he had worn to dinner. Was tapping his other hand against the plate that lay before him, hosting the most succulent, blood meat imaginable. Completely raw? To be ambiguous, for sure.

The young midget man, whose face was filled with the fresh youth of a sixteen year old young man, cracked his neck rather loudly, feeling self-conscious in his very old fashioned blue and gold tailcoat, one which looked right at home with the early 1800's. He shuffled uncomfortably upon the stack of thick encyclopedias that allowed him to see well above the table, and eyed Osmund Saddler leeringly.

"Why?" he repeated, almost demanding an explanation to the word. Saddler, ever the soft faced man, nodded.

"Yes. Why, Salazar, do you hold onto the idea that formality reaches into these meetings, that expectation is to be honored above comfort and interest?"

_Don't play games with me, Saddler! I know exactly why you're here!_

"I am trying to be as I was raised to be, Lord Saddler."

_Lord, Salazar?_ It was Saddler's turn for thought. _Lord? Why, my friend, you catch on quickly, you truly do! Manipulate... manipulate..._

"And how were you raised, Salazar?"

Salazar twiddled his thumbs. "A proper castellan of magnificent reason. Honored to stand in tradition's framework honored to manipulate brutality where it is needed to preserve it." He said this last bit to ensure a promise to Saddler: that he was not above using violence when his needs were meant to be met. Necessary violence, directed at specific beings, but sometimes fun. Saddler smiled at this.

"Of course," the dark man agreed, reaching into his coat pocket. Salazar stiffened, his eyes widening as his hand involuntarily shot for the bottom of the table top, where a small button awaited his touch: a button that would not only summon his elite guard at once, who were sitting at the ready just outside of the room, but also restrain anyone sitting in any of the chairs at the dining table save for his own. He always chose this exact chair at this end of the table for this exact purpose. Saddler had scared him from the beginning. He had chosen not to take any chances with the man.

The old man noticed Salazar's mild frenzy, saw the ready look in his eye, the motion of his arm at the ready beneath the table. A smile.

"You need not worry about that, Salazar. I have no intention of harming you…" His eyes glinted with a kind sort of truth, but was it truth unlettered with white lies? He pulled his hand out of his pocket and produced something fairly harmless: a piece of very old parchment. Salazar stared at it, unsure as to what he was expecting. The parchment was yellowed with the ages of the decades, wrinkled and smelling awfully of old shrimp. Saddler grinned notably and held the parchment in the air. Salazar noted that it was full of writing, very richly handed writing, too. It was almost beautiful. The hand of a true man of purpose.

"Interesting. But I cannot see the writing from here, Lord Saddler, it is far too small," he played, sipping properly from the mug of tea in hand. He wretched, slightly. He loved this tea above all others, but this situation put him off of it. Saddler's presence… it was so uncomfortable. Cold. Scary. Salazar had met many men in his life, of high status and dark demeanor, but Saddler… Saddler was different somehow. He seemed to have a way of seeing beyond the flesh and bone. As his gray eyes pierced Salazar intently, Salazar felt cold droplets of sweat. Shook a little.

"I shall bring it to you," the old man began, but Salazar shook his head quickly.

"No need, no need, you're a guest here. Raufilio!"

Raufilio, who often went by the easier name of Raulf, stepped through the door at once, bursting from the eastern kitchen with an anticipatory Red 9 in one hand, and a small platter of Wild Cherry wine in the other, perfectly balanced upon a steady hand. As steady as the hand that held the handgun at the ready. The butler was old, a well-placed, slightly hunched man of seventy-three, whose narrow hazel eyes bore into Saddler with a less than misguided glare. Saddler, however, remained calm, smiling politely at the butler as he gave the man a nod.

Salazar gulped. "No need for that, Raulf," he said quickly, motioning at the gun in the man's hand. "I just wanted you to take that piece of parchment there and bring it over to me." He motioned at the paper in Saddler's hand. Raulf, ever the weary and anticipatory, looked from Salazar to Saddler, his right eye twitching only so slightly, and after a moment, nodded, lowering the gun.

"Si, si, Por supuesto, señor." The Red 9 still remained firmly held between a clenched fist as Raulf strode forward.

"You are ever the most intensely prepared, Salazar," Saddler chuckled, giving the castellan a thumbs up. Salazar forced a smile and looked away quickly, his expression darkening at once. When Raulf reached down to take the parchment from Saddler, after setting the platter with its three wine bottles upon the table, he snatched it quickly from the dark man's hand. Saddler gave him a look, just before the butler turned away. Those eerie, wide gray eyes met the hazel ones and a dark meaning passed between them. Raulf froze, only for the slightest second, feeling an unnatural coldness sweep over them as the two sets of eyes met. As the smile crossed the man's lips…

And then Raulf was walking away from Saddler, and when he reached Salazar, he bowed very low, respectfully bent over well for a man of his age, and handed the letter slowly to his master.

"Comer en paz, señor Salazar," he whispered softly, his eyes closed for a moment as he contemplated whatever seriousness this may entail. He did not like the man sitting at the other end of the table. It had been an instant hate, and Raufilio had _always_ been perceptive to appropriate speculations of that nature. Somehow, as he looked back into his master's eyes, he saw too the same fear, the same dislike… Salazar liked the man named Osmund Saddler as much as he did: zotch and zero to none.

"Gracias, amigo. Puede dejar." Raulf bowed low again at this permission and turned away, walking as quickly as his aged legs would allow him too, still clenching tight the gun in his hand. As he passed Saddler, their eyes met one more time: and Raulf felt the greatest amount of apprehension rise up inside of him. He stopped walking, and turned to face Saddler. Salazar, who had been about to begin reading the letter, froze, watching the scene from afar.

"Yo no confío en ti…"

Saddler raised his eyebrows, but he looked as if he were about to laugh. Merrily, at that. Salazar bit his tongue, afraid of what may happen.

"No?" he asked, not mocking confusion or innocence, but rather a prod of laughing at a man before his own face. Daring him to say more.

Raulf's face turned stony, his eyes blazing. He pointed a withered, threatening finger at Saddler. "Le no dejes caer en tentación... o yo lo libraré del mal…"

And with that, he turned away, choosing not to stay a moment longer in Saddler's disorienting presence. Salazar watched his butler walk away with his own form of frozenness, unsure as to how to react from what had just been said. When Raulf had vanished behind the closed door, Saddler closed his eyes, grinning.

"For mine shall be the kingdom, and the power, and the glory forever," he blasphemed. "Amen."

He now turned back to face Salazar and the small man saw that his eyes were twinkling.

"Admirable servant, Salazar. You should keep him around….while you can."

Salazar, who had turned back to the letter, suddenly looked up at those last three words. A trickle of the coldest sweat yet. Saddler waved his hand at him, silently gesturing at him to begin reading. Salazar, ever the faint hearted, turned his chair away from Saddler, pulling a small lever built into the side that rotated it horizontally. He did not wish to look at Saddler as long as he could.

The letter…

_In respect of the ages that are to follow this one, I say this, without fear: our purpose was misguided. We strove to ensure that we could follow on with this idea that we were protecting the defenseless from those horrors beneath… I feel that we failed in seeing the truth. We did what we did because it was called for by the public, and much more, by the human nature aspect that so desperately craves for us to stand firm against the abnormalities. If it does not fit with the common acceptance, destroy it. If it does not yield power to provide positively for the community, then eliminate it. Let comfort rise above the risk. Let risk be the enemy of the people who strive for bettering their world, and fall onto their faces, squirming about restlessly. They are afraid of it because there were those who both abused and feared it. But acceptance… that is something far superior to any idea we could have conceived. The time is coming for its release. I will see to it. _

_ I write this letter not to my future generations, but rather to myself, in hopes that I will be continuously reminded of what is needed of me: for I am human, and as such, I lack in the same quality of desire that brews so heatedly inside of my fellow friends and family. I see my fear of weakness, but much more, I see it as sin. I have sinned. I have betrayed that which God Himself has put so readily into the Earth for the taking. And I am paying for it, every night, with these nightmares in my sleep. And with these hallucinations that play well on into the days that I refuse to give them my peace. My vulnerability notwithstanding, I am tired, and I need my peace. So, in the coming days, I shall force the people to see, or else, I shall go down into those deep tunnels myself and alone bring about death to the preservations. My sin was ensuring that their imprisonment could continue, when all along, we were meant to acknowledge them for what they were: gifts, to be administered by the Coming Rey araña, and when he comes, so too shall the Judgment, that great Throne of Entitlement, for the people to advance the future, and to advance the meaning of our humanity: growth. _

Salazar finished reading the letter and looked up, unsure as to what to say. What had he just read?

"What is this, exactly?" he demanded of Saddler. Saddler, who had been expecting the question, nodded understandingly.

"He failed to get to the point, did he not? But that was destined to purpose. He even stated it himself, that his purpose for writing this was to ensure that he, and he alone, understood what it meant. He set himself upon this pilgrimage, and he did so because his own people were terrified of what it entitled."

"And just _who_ is he? What is this all about, Lord Saddler? I assume that this was the purpose that you wished to meet with me…"

"Indeed, it was, Ramon. Indeed it was. Do you truly not recognize this hand, though?"

Salazar began to redden. "No. No I do not."

"And for a good reason, too. He was publically executed, you see, tortured and excommunicated from the family prior to said execution. A banishment most foully and unjustly done. This, Ramon, is the handwriting of your grandfather, appropriately named Lord Trae Luz."

_Bringer of Light?_

"I have never heard of this man," Salazar said, sipping more of his tea as Saddler reached for one of the Wild Cherry wine bottles that Raulf had graciously brought in. "The Salazar family is instructed from an early age to preserve great knowledge of generations upon generations, especially in light of the victories within the family. This Trae Luz, that you speak of… he has never crossed our family's biographies. I would have heard if one of its castellans had been excommunicated. High treason against the family is the most prominent of detailed account and we have an entire book focused on the punishments of-"

"Stop talking, little one, rest," Saddler cut in abruptly, his voice soft and sing-song, giving off a lullaby to a child. Salazar was taken aback by this sudden rudeness, but Saddler shook his head. "Salazar, you have been gifted with something incredibly life changing. This letter, the one that you hold in your hand, holds the future within it."

Salazar raised his eyebrows.

"Allow me to explain. Trae Luz was the castellan of the Salazar Castle following Padre de Potenica, the man who, during the Spanish Inquisition, began a ravenous crusade against followers of the faith… the faith of the Plaga."

A pause.

Now Salazar was greatly intrigued by this discussion. So, it had come down to this… he knew of what Saddler spoke of. It was within the history of the Salazar family as its greatest movement. The faith that Saddler referred to had come to call themselves the Los Illuminados, meaning the "Enlightened", and they had found worship and power within the discovery of a very special form of life: a parasite, hidden deep beneath this very castle. Prior to the reign of Padre de Potencia, the castle that the Salazar family had commanded for centuries had been the drawing point of the Los Illuminados, a spiritual place where their practices were bound in secrecy.

When the Padre had come into power, however, everything had changed. The castellan, ever famed for his extraordinarily heightened temper and hatred for the ideals of the Los Illuminados, took charge following his father's death, who had been a priest of the faith, to eradicate its ideals entirely. The members of the labeled cult had been purged, their religious contexts burned with their bodies, and the parasites that they utilized in their worship had been sealed away beneath the castle, hidden beneath a powerful barrier of strong mechanics and ever vigilant guardsmen by day and night. The Los Illuminados had fallen into decay and slinked away into the shadows, and for countless decades, few had believed that the cult still survived. Salazar, of course, had been one of these doubting that its existence could have possibly continued with the pressure placed upon its ideals, and the heavy protection administered upon the sealed away parasites, which had been given the name, "Las Plagas". _Plague_.

"I know the story of the Los Illuminados, Lord Saddler," he finally said, after Saddler had acknowledged the young man's contemplation. "I know very well what they found beneath this castle. The Plaga had done things to the people… terrible things…"

Saddler's swallowed a heavy throatful of wine and set the bottle down, chuckling amusedly.

"Terrible, Ramon? Terrible, you say? My friend, Adolf Hitler was terrible. Stalin, Henry the Eighth… those men were terrible, Ramon. These beings… these wondrous creatures planted into our world… _they_ are not terrible. They fulfilled the purpose that they had been set upon to do. To _enlighten_ us, Salazar. They brought forth the new Human. We, as humans of corruptible nature, as stated by your grandfather Trae in the letter that you hold in your hand, must seek our the ascension because it is a necessary element needed to not only enrich us in our qualities, but to purify us of the afflictions to that corruption. Trae saw this, and fought hard with his people to bring about that ascension, but they rebelled against him, his own son at that, and killed him for trying to save the world from itself."

"Trying to save the world…by destroying it?"

"Destroying it?"

"The tales, Saddler. You know much concerning the Illuminados, yes? You, after all, are its current Seeker of the Word…"

Saddler clapped his hands together excitedly at this. "_Very_ good!"

Salazar nodded. Even at his young age, he was smarter than millions of other teenagers roaming the Earth. He could see past a folly, see past a hidden meaning. It was as looking for single dust specks within sunlight. You took the time to take things apart, and the image's components suddenly show you their meaning. Taking apart Saddler's words, and the purpose of the distribution of Trae's letter, it was obvious as to the meaning…

"You give this to me because you seek to finish what Trae started…"

Saddler looked more pleased than ever at this. "I am astounded by how quickly you catch on, Salazar."

"This letter… he sounded desperate. He knew he was going to be killed, I am sure of it… his name has never made it into our history."

"That is because of his excommunication for treason to the family prior to death. He was the only one who had ever had it happen to. Therefore, he was logically the first in the family to be wiped away from the Tree of Relations, from the biographies of excellence… your family, Salazar, feared him for what he had sought. They thought it best to keep his intentions hidden from future generations who may very well be tempted to pick up where he was unable to continue…"

"If he was wiped away from history then how is it that you came upon this!?" Salazar demanded angrily, thrashing the paper about in the air. "How do I know that this is not a forgery of your doing, Saddler!?"

Saddler was not put off in the slightest. "A forgery? An accusation of forgery, and a lacking of _Lord_ in regards to my name… I seem to have hit a nerve. You would suspect me of lying to you, exploiting the name of your family in hopes that I could manipulate you into an action on the Illuminados's behalf?"

Salazar nodded defiantly. "Yes, I would, Saddler, because you have been tied closely to the Salazar family for decades. You, the priest of the Church of Power. We had always suspected that you may be involved in the restoration of the Illuminados name-"

"Your family thought the Illuminados to be extinct."

"We hoped beyond hope that the past mistakes of this family would remain the past indefinitely!"

"You hoped that you could hide from the answers to life, Ramon. You hoped to run away and join the rest of this world in its depravity, in its corrupted form: the human essence. But Trae had noble intentions. He wanted to save the world by allowing it to feel the power that had been given to it."

"The parasites took _lives_, Saddler!"

"The parasites were the key. _Are_ the key. This world has seen far too much degradation to survive itself for much longer. The 1998 incident in America, consider it. Bombings in Moscow, the wars of Israel… the new millennium has just begun, Salazar, and yet our world revels in the stench of its mass murders, and of its depravity. It is in need of cleansing, Salazar, and I come offering my help, and my plea, is setting motion the chain of events that will ensure that this corruption is purified. I ask you to help me save the world, Salazar. You have the power to do so. You know that, right?"

Saddler finished his hearty speech and took another deep drink of wine. Salazar sat in place, a stone of a man who had just been offered one of the most passionate pleas for what would undoubtedly bring more harm than good. Hearing Saddler's words affected him far less than that actual thought of consideration. Yes, he had the power to do what Saddler desired him to do. Yes, he had the unquestionable loyalty of his butler, and he had the incentive to help in ways that were asked of him, if only to prove himself a worthy holder of Castle Salazar. But to considers something like this required the most intense care, the most intense consideration of the stupidity of it all, and the reasons that people had killed castellans over the matter. Salazar lived alone with Raulf, of course, and as such, he feared no such rebellion from the man. Raulf was fiercely dedicated to Salazar, and would only ever raise a finger in the defense of his life.

But the unsurity of it all was crippling. A scary though, to an even scarier endeavor.

"You should consider, Salazar, that the world needs the Los Illuminados fully realized," Saddler told him. "We are the beginning of the New Humans."

Salazar glared. _New Humans_?

At last, he stood up from his chair, throwing the letter down upon the table with a hard slam of a hand. The eastern door burst open at once, and Raulf came through, the gun at the ready once more. Salazar bowed in the direction of Saddler.

"Raulf, ensure that Mr. Saddler finds his way out comfortably, please. I will go to my study now and I will be expecting you in there as soon as you have escorted Mr. Saddler off the premises."

Saddler stood up too, moving so fast that Raulf's hand jerked and he pointed the gun right at Saddler. But Saddler ignored him, and instead focused upon Salazar. His face was still so calm, however. Did nothing anger him?

"Consider my offer, my friend. You could the savior of the world, yes? A proper replacement for a man on a cross, yes?"

Salazar turned to face Saddler, his eyes wide. How _daring_ of him, to say something of that nature… there was no doubt that Saddler was indeed, _evil_. Raulf could sense it, and Salazar could pick up on Raulf's feelings very well. The way his butler stared… such bitterness.

"Please, leave…" Salazar replied in a dark voice, before turning away and marching towards the door behind his chair, vanishing into the corridor beyond with a slam of the door. Saddler smiled after the small young man, even as Raulf kept the gun held firmly in place.

"Le han dicho a abandonar. Ahora deja."

Saddler now turned to the man before him. Yes, he had been told to leave, and he would, but only after a clarification.

"Realmente cuidar de él?" Saddler inquired to the man's caringness towards Salazar. Raulf glared.

"Si!"

"Debe tengo mucho cuidado entonces. Asegúrese de que elige correctamente." _Indeed, he should ensure that Salazar takes care. After all, the New Age required a man who had initiative, and to reach that goal of enlightenment, as the Los Illuminados had once stood for… it required the power of the Salazar family. _"Buenas noches. Volveré pronto."

And without another word, Osmund Saddler turned away and began to make his way for the door exiting the dining room. Raulfilio followed closely behind, his gun still at the ready. Saddler turned into the long corridor outside, and it took a about two seconds for Raulf to hurry his way into the corridor as well. But when he reached the long, darkened hall beyond, and turned to follow after Saddler, the darkest of surprises. Osmund Saddler was nowhere to be seen.


	2. Chapter 2

History book after history book! Where was he? Where was the name Trae Luz, and how where did it apply him to the history revolving around the Las Plagas? It had to be in here! The great library of the Salazar Castle stood at three stories, the massive shelves towering to the ceiling, filled with literally thousands of volumes concerning countless subjects, with a grand portion of them specifically directed at the Salazar family. Biographies, autobiographies, fictionalized accounts inspired by the family's work, even medical records and birth certificates… the library had compiled the most detailed of information for hundreds of years.

Salazar sat at a long mahogany table situated in the middle of the hall, pouring over the series his grandfather Titchi had written, labeled _The Account of Salazar: a Grand History of the Powers_, while also studying a massive white tapestry, upon which were labeled all the names of the Salazar dynasty, dated back well into the early 1300's. Not a single mention of Trae anywhere. Surely, in one of the thousands of volumes surrounding him, Trae Luz had to be in here somewhere. If indeed Saddler was interested in the man… Salazar needed proof that the letter that Saddler had given to him was indeed real, and if the context of the letter was as Saddler suspected it to be.

His frustration had gotten the best of him during dinner. He should have pressed harder questions, demanded the origin location of the letter… how could Saddler have something that Salazar's family could not, especially revolving around its so-called story. Something like that would have been incriminating. If he could find a copy of the man's handwriting… but to do that, he would first have to find proof that the man had even existed.

What was Saddler up to? What did he desire, in respect to the gravity of the situation? Trae Luz… that name had unhinged everything this evening. Saddler had seen a potential inside of this Luz, and had tried to come to Salazar for the aid in something that Salazar knew quite well would result in a mass decimation. He had to put an end to it, and he had to do it quickly. An end to the questions and conflicts that had suddenly arisen from all of this. Where was Luz hiding? If the Salazar family had indeed wanted the man's name wiped from history, then it would most likely be impossible to find. The family had always been good at hiding things when they wanted no one to find them. This entire castle was one colossal booby trap for the unwanted, though the traps had never seen much use since the beginning of the castle's construction. A few traitors of the land here and there had been set loose in the most dangerous parts of the castle, ordered to find their way out, none of them ever surviving long enough to do so. But now… now the castle was meaningless. It no longer existed to install fear and control. It only existed to serve the home of a broken family, and its broken castellan.

A knock upon the door.

"Enter," he called out in English, in case it was someone other than Raufilio. Raufilio had only started the English language after Ramon had been born, and even after sixteen years, the man had neglected to practice it extensively, focusing upon his native land's tongue as it was required more in this land. Ramon himself preferred English over any other speech. English was the language of the cultures, the most commonly spoken dialect, and with that he felt a sense of power. Ramon enjoyed the idea of having power, but only to practice caution as to where you received it from. Las Plagas, for example, was to be cautioned to the point of absolute refusal.

It was Raufilio who entered the room indeed, carrying what looked like two chilled bottles of Salazar's favorite grape daiquiris. He took the drink with a nod of thanks and motioned at the chair beside him.

"You've been a-, I mean…" He cleared his throat, remembering that with Rauf, the Spanish tongue worked better. "Ha desaparecido por mucho tiempo." His accusation of Rauf being gone for so long did not seem to faze the old man in the slightest as Rauf took a seat. The butler popped open his own bottle and drunk a small amount, little more than a sip, before clearing his own throat and looking tiredly at Salazar.

"Salazar…disappear…disappeared." The old man gruffed in English as best he could. "Left…hole-way outside of dane room."

"It's okay, my friend, you can speak in your own tongue," Salazar waved impatiently, and Rauf smiled.

"Se esfumó. Había entrado en cuanto entré en el pasillo."

"As soon as you entered the hall? But how so? The south corridor is quite long and Saddler's an old man."

"No estoy pretendiendo de entenderlo."

_No, of course not. It was VERY difficult to understand. Saddler alone was filled with the most interesting mysteries. His work with the Upbringing of the Los Illuminados placed him in powerful positions to do miraculous things. _

"So, then, have you taken a snoop at the letter that Saddler presented to me, dear Raufilio?"

Rauf nodded, reaching into his coat pocket and producing the letter written by "Trae Luz". Salazar nodded, silently thanking his butler for bringing it with him.

"So, if Saddler vanished upon entering the corridor, where could he have gone…?"

"Me aseguré de hacer las pruebas habituales. Escaneé el castillo desde el centro de control. No se esconde en cualquier lugar en el castillo. No sé cómo, pero abandonó las instalaciones completamente."

Saddler frowned at this. How could Saddler have possibly escaped the castle scanning? The walls and floods were installed with some of the most advanced screening equipment. From the main hub, anyone could easily track the movement of an intruder within the castle, and ensure that not only they knew the exact location, but also how close they were to a trap that could be activated from the hub. If Saddler had indeed managed to escape the grounds just like that… just what _was_ he?

It sounded as if he had decided to present his power in action. A test of sorts, a show-off of the ages. Saddler had something indeed special about him. You had to wonder…

_But no! He was wanting my help in releasing it! That was the entire point of him joining me for dinner! He can't already be empowered by it, can he? After all… if he had access to the Plaga, then reasonably, he would not have come to me asking for help. He could have it distributed… but then, how did he manage it? _

This entire event was otherworldly, and it concerned Salazar deeply.

"I do not like this. I hate this! Why!? Why did he choose now, of all times!? What purpose would it serve, to have something like this thrown on the doorstep!? I don't have the initiative, as he said, for he was right in making that declaration! And of this Trae Luz… who is he? Raful, I have searched and searched for a good half hour now. Trae Luz is either hiding very well in here, or he does not exist. Do I have to search for hours and days on end?"

"Con todo respeto, es una gran biblioteca!" Raful gestured about with his arms, eyeing the volumes with an aged man's offer of apprehension in himself. Neither of them truly liked this room. It was a room filled with far too much blood, far too much fear. The Salazar family had always been ruthless. What purpose did that play a man of this new age, who had to play his fire in the grate in order to function within a world that demanded political correctness and social norm?

"Yes, it is a big library, I know. And it is in this big library that I am going to find out what Saddler wants. Raful, I want you to help me locate every single volume we have concerning the Las Plagas. Especially the ones that Mother forbid me from reading. She had those locked away on the third story of this room. They key… well, I don't know where she hid it, but it doesn't matter. Come with me and bring your gun, we're going to blast the damn lock off."

He jumped from the table, grateful to get away from the useless family tree and accounts of Salazar conquest. Raful stood too, snatching his drink as he did, and patted his side fondly. He always carried the gun around. He doubled as Salazar's bodyguard as much as he did his butler. Raful had been well trained in his days as a soldier of the Spanish Armed Forces in 1951, having received several honorary awards for combat service during the two wars of Eastern China. He had been ruthless upon the battlefield, his marksmanship unrivaled by his fellow soldiers and his body count high, to the point where his friends and commanding officers had come to nickname him the "Verdugo", being Spanish for "Executioner".

There were ladders leading up to the higher levels of the library, as well as winding staircases. Raful and Salazar, however, took to a small elevator built into the side of the room, and jabbing at the **3** button, the elevator went whisking at a great speed, vertically. Raful was fingering his pistol in hand. The thought of shooting anything treasured in this castle harmed his conscience, but this castle belonged to Ramon, and as such, his word was law. Raful would shoot out every stained glass window without hesitation, if Ramon asked him to.

The third floor of the library was dark, for no one had been up here in three years. Not since Mother's death. Not since she had slipped and fallen down the three stories of this room, breaking her neck upon impact. Salazar's mother had always been very clumsy, and had only watched where she was going half the time, tripping over her own feet at times. It had ended her life.

Raful reached onto a nearby wall and flicked a switch, and immediately, the wired lights of the red crystal lamps hanging on chains from the ceiling flickered on, illuminating the story in a bask of light red luminance. A tall, black wardrobe stood at the end of the hall, padlocked with thick chains. The cabinet that held the forbidden accounts of the Las Plagas. As to why she had forbidden him to read these, when he had been given other books that had mentioned the Plaga, it was an unsure thing. A mystery. What could be so bad in _these_ books concerning the Plaga that, inevitably, worsened itself from other mentions.

The two of them moved forward, stopping before the wardrobe at the end of the walkway, and Salazar patted Raful's arm comfortingly.

"En los brazos, soldado," he commanded, mimicking a gun with his hand as he whispered a soft, "_Pow_".

Raful nodded at once, raising the gun and taking aim at the thick chains.

_CRACK_. The Red 9 sounded off horrendously loud in the empty, massive chamber, Salazar covering his ears with a strained expression. Raful had aimed downward, so that the bullet would hit the floor and not penetrate the wardrobe and damage the books inside. The chains snapped at the bullet's touch and fell away in half at once. He took a second aim and shot the other chain as well, the framework of the thick, old steel, well preserved in a surprising way, cleaved in two, and the rattling against the stone floor was satisfying indeed.

"I am proud of you Raufilio my friend," Salazar praised, reaching forward and throwing open the wardrobe doors.

And both Raful and Salazar gasped when they saw what was inside.

Two shelves widened the top of the wardrobe, upon which were settled at least ten different thin books of sorts, maroon bound in velvet. But there were three other shelves beneath these, and upon them, the contents were far from what had been expected. Jars. There were jars filled with what looked like green embalming fluid. There were hands. Human hands. Fresh, preserved… unmistakable human hands. And not only hands… spiders of sorts. He had never seen spiders quite like these, however… They were covered in what looked like human flesh, bulgy boned and gangly, otherworldly looking. And they were massive! Creatures of extraterrestrial nature, even, by physical appearance.

"Que en-" Raful gasped, the old man clutching his heart. He had never been good with seeing dismembered body parts. He had seen enough of that during his time in the special forces and it had not scarred him fully to the point where seeing it was an easy thing to do. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.

"Hands in jars? And what are these creatures?" He lightly tapped one of the jars with his hand. It moved not. Of course it did not. What had he been expecting? Nothing could survive being submerged in embalming fluid. And this wardrobe had remained locked for years. But never had he seen an animal like this.

"Hagamos este rápido," Raful encouraged his master, and Salazar nodded. They truly did need to do this quickly. He did not want to stay up here anymore than he had to. His mother had hidden these things away and now he could see why. Looking at it, experiencing its presence so easily, so willingly… it was a test all on its own. Raful collected the books for him and the two of them hurried away, Salazar closing shut the wardrobe with one last disgusted look at the preserved spiders. What _were_ they?

Back down at the table on the lower floor, Salazar examined the jackets of the books. None of them were labeled. There were merely covered in thin black leather that was rather decrepit in nature. He took a deep inhale, expelling it outward in a most uncomfortable sort of way.

"Alright, then, Raulfilio, here goes nothing." And Ramon Salazar opened the first of the accounts. Silently, unseen, a shadow watched the scene from the nearby window behind the two of them. A shadow who was one as a living shadow, unable to seen, unable to be heard or senses. _Read them… read them… do not let me down, Ruona… _

_ "I need you to help me, Ruona," the shadow that had been Osmund Saddler had begged of the castellan's wife. _

_ "For what purpose?"_

_ "For the same purpose you desire. The Ascension."_

_ "My husband will never allow it!"_

_ "No… no he will not. But I will. All I need you to do, is place something in wait. Ensure that it is there, begging for food…"_

_ "I'm sorry?"_

The front cover was blank, no words written upon it in introduction. But there was _something_ there, nonetheless, not of ink but flesh. Raful and Salazar both were rooted to the spot as they saw the creature, crawling about on the page, but when the book opened and the dim candlelight touched it, the tiny creature jumped at an alarming rate. Salazar gasped, his mouth flying open in shock as the small, human flesh colored creature that looked like a miniature version of the spiders they had found preserved upstairs leapt towards him. Raful tried to move, but in his age, he was far too slow.

Salazar saw the creature vanish beyond his vision, and he wretched outwardly, grasping at his throat and his eyes widened. Even so small as the spider was, he could feel it running around his gums.

"Rau!" Salazar tried to say Raful's name without closing his mouth. Raful pulled Salazar's face forward and examined the inside of his mouth.

"Maldita sea!" he swore furiously, pulling away from Salazar with a horrified look on his face. "Se arrastró por la garganta!"

Salazar nearly fainted. He began to whimper, tears appearing in his eyes as he clutched at his throat, trying desperately to force the creature back up, but he could indeed feel it. It was painful, as if its tiny feet were made from needles, crawling down his windpipe to placed far below. Salazar pushed himself away from the table, ruffling up his stomach desperately as he ran for the door. Raful followed as closely as he could but he still moved far too slow to catch up with the running Salazar.

"The car! THE CAR! We have to get to the car, Raful! The hospital!"

The shadow leering in the window smiled. _Very well done, Ruona. Your son will soon see the promise that the Plaga brings with it. _

A great knocking upon the giant castle door. The man who stood waiting in the courtyard was massive in his height, standing well at a great seven feet and more. He was incredibly well built, and stood with an empowerment like no other. The man was shrouded in a gray tunic fitting to a Catholic priest, his high collar buttoned to a wellness, his head sheltered by the wide brimmed gray fedora that he wore.

Father Mendez always like to dress in a way that assured his "sheep" that he was going to make a difference. A look of empowerment. Bitores Mendez enjoyed power.

His great fist banged once more against the tall metal door of its trimmed gold, tapping his foot impatiently as he looked up at the blazing white moon of the night. It was far too late to be dealing with Salazar right now.

After five minutes of receiving no reply, the priest reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small black transceiver, its light empty, not flashing at all. So, then, he would have to make a call. He pressed down on the small black button built into the side and spoke impatiently into it.

"Are they not coming, then?"

"Patience, Bitores, patience," the voice of Osmund Saddler said on the other end. "I have just managed to disable the three cars built into the underground passage. The helicopter has also been taken care of. They'll soon realize that their only chance may be the Aston in the front courtyard."

"And I've already dealt with that one," Mendez promised, casting a glance towards the stone rail edge that overlooked the massive ravine below. He had paid off some good people to hide the mess once he had managed to toss it down into the ravine. Even now, their work would be finished, and they would find a compensation well worth its amount in gold awaiting them at their hideout in the mountains: as well a few bombs triggered to the boxes containing said gold. Loose ends and all that.

"So, then, will it happen soon?"

"Unfortunately no. The tiny sample that I had Ruona place inside of that book has been starving for years, and is horrendously weak, no doubt. Not only that, but because it has starved, it has not been able to mature properly, and has remained in its birth form. It will not have all that much power over him… but it will be enough to help him see. Ruona managed to dig this one up not too long before her…accident… but she did not temper it in the way that she was supposed to. No… this small sample will only give him a mere taste and then die, you will see to that. The true parasites are hidden beneath the castle, underneath the seal. We need Salazar to gain the true purpose of this all."

"So, then, if she herself could not break the seal over the lower vaults, then where did she manage to find this specimen at?"

"A rock formation near the Antiago Montana de Padre, north of this region. Apparently, there used to be a massive colony thriving there, probably several centuries. We have scoured the entire region since her team's discovery. Somehow, this was the only specimen to have survived out there. The fossils in the masses were unable to be loc-"

"I hear them coming!" Mendez interrupted quickly, looking up as his keen hearing detected the sounds of footsteps on the other side of the door, accompanied by panicked voices. "Sorry, Saddler, but I have to run!"

"Mendez, do your job well!"

Mendez put away the transceiver and hurried forward, banging his fist against the great door once more. He heard the voices and footsteps inside stop. Silence.

Silence for several seconds.

"Quién es!?" the voice of the butler, Raufilio, called out.

"Es padre Mendez, Señor," Mendez called back through the heavy framework.

More silence. But shorter this time.

"Father Mendez!" It was the frantic, shaking voice of Ramon Salazar. A personal friend, who had come to rely heavily upon Mendez's teachings of the Faith. The faith, of course, being Christianity, not that of Saddler's attempts to raise the Los Illuminados from the grave. But of course… _Matthew 7:15- "Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves. _

The great castle door burst inward as Salazar pulled the great doors forward with Raulf's help, and when the two of them saw Father Mendez standing there, a dark smile upon his face which almost resembled a smirk of deep, dark knowledge, an elation of hope arose.

"Father, I am need of your help! Something terrible has happened!" Salazar fell to his knees before Mendez and kissed the giant man's ruby ring. Mendez nodded understandingly, patting Salazar upon the shoulder gently.

"I know of your problem, Salazar. God has told me in a dream. It is why I have come."

He spoke so softly, so fluidly as he said it. His eyes filled with a deep gentleness. A gentle giant…hiding a ferocious ogre.

Raful looked surprised, his eyes slightly narrowing. Salazar looked up at him, his eyes stained with tears that made them seem as glass, a look of wonder upon his face.

"You know?" he whispered.

"The Lord has given me a vision. A snake there did come, and bit you in the ankle, Salazar, but its venom has entered your system and purges you with pain. I felt an inclination to come, that you were in danger. God watches over you, Salazar, and he has sent his healing angel in the form of me."

He bent down too, still towering mightily over the dwarf, however, and placed a large hand upon Salazar's bent head.

"Shall we pray?"

Second Peter 2:1: _"But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction." _


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't understand…" Salazar whispered, as Father Mendez placed a cold rag against the young man's forehead. He was running a fever, one that had been quite spontaneous and crippling. Mendez nodded sadly. Raufilio watched in the dark corner, his eyes narrowed as he observed the priest's work. This was not right…

"The Lord tells us that the Devil will come for us at all times. He hates us, for we are truly free of the fate that awaits us, because of our faith. The Lord gives us power, do you know that, Ramon?"

"P-power?" Salazar's eyes were only half-open, and blurred to boot. His vision was distorted, his head pounding. What was it doing to him!?

"Yes, Ramon, power. And power comes with the price of the Devil. He comes to you, and he tries to sway you from following God's path, obtaining God's gift… the gift of the Sight. To see not only what power is needed to combat his ailments, but also how to utilize all power to a positive degree."

"What kind of power could God have given us to combat the ailments?" Salazar whispered.

Mendez smiled. "This creature was hidden inside of the book, yes. You said you were reading a book that you had found in the library, and that the creature was hidden inside of it?"

"Y-yes…"

"What book was it, my friend?"

"It was… it was an account of the Las Plagas…"

Mendez sighed. A soft smile. "Of course, of course… the Las Plagas. Quite an infamous name, the Las Plagas. And quite an infamous history to boot…"

"Of course it is. People died because of the Plagas."

"People died because they rejected God's power, Salazar…"

Raulf jumped from his chair at once, staring furiously at Mendez. The giant priest turned to look at him, inquiring the sudden movement with a silence, ready look.

"Eh?"

"Enough… that's… enough…" the old butler managed in English. "Go…now…"

"Raufilio!" Salazar snapped irritably. "Bitores is a family honorary and his name has been treasured in the Salazar halls for decades. You will show respect. He is here to heal me. It seems there is a stronger plan yet, my friend." He gazed up at the ceiling, a fantasizing look upon his face. "God must have stopped those vehicles from functioning because you were coming to save me, Bitores…"

"Indeed, He surely did," Mendez pressed quickly, before Raulf could argue. The butler stood rooted to the spot, fuming. "I only hope that you, Raulfilio, shall come to understand this in time. There is a plan, and we must trust in it…" He smirked to himself as he turned his face to hide in the shadows. They were in a most dimly lit room, only illuminated by a fire in the cobbled grate, Salazar lying upon a long study table of redwood with his head resting upon a golden trimmed, blue cloth pillow, Mendez standing over him like a dominant ghost.

"Raufilio, please, leave us in peace, my friend. I am protected by the grace of His servant." Salazar motioned up to Mendez. "Bitores will protect me."

"Senor, yo-"

"_Please_, Raufilio, respect my wishes. Leave. Now."

Raulf looked hurt, furious, even, but the old man clenched his fists and moved at once, his obedience stronger than his pride. He swept from the room with his head bent low and his face filled with intent concentration, silently debating as to the appropriate action needed in this case…. The proper response hinged everything together…

When the butler had vanished, the iron door closing firmly behind him, Mendez smiled, sighing with relief.

"It is good that we are alone, Ramon…"

"I disagree. Raulfilio's presence has always been an assuring one, but nonetheless, he must learn that his place is not to question his Master."

"In all manner of respect, Lord Salazar, I disagree. A servant has a place questioning his Master because how else can he serve the Master, if he does not seek the well-being of the Master? To assume that the Master's plan is always the correct one, Salazar… it is utter foolishness…"

"The servant's place is to the Master and his word!"

"The system has been flowered for millenniums, Salazar. Failing to question and disobey leaves us blind to evil. Can we not recognize the wrong doings of man, if not first we are tainted that we seek the _purpose_ of escaping said evil? You cannot desire to escape evil, if first you do not experience it. Can you?"

Salazar gulped. He began to sweat, but just a bit. "It all hinges on what kind of pursuits, and who the Master is…"

"Man if flawed, Salazar. We are taught this from the very start. We are educated to understand how our flaws effect our lives, why we have them to begin with, and where we must seek to find a protection from those flaws."

"And you believe… that I am flawed as a Master?"

"I believe you are flawed, like everyone else, as a human being. That bound in the corrupted flesh, Salazar, we have nothing but our negativities… our sins… we desire flesh to lust over, and we desire to food to satisfy a hunger far beyond the health our bodies need. We are corrupted in every way imaginable, from our fantasies to our actions associated with them… in all of this, Salazar, we need Ascension." As he spoke that last word, he said it with an intense reverence. An idolization of desire.

Salazar frowned. Ascension… had not Saddler also mentioned an "ascension" too….?

"That sounds very much like the idea of the Los Illuminados…" Salazar attempted at a brave voice, which, sadly, failed him in his time of need. His tone shook, and Mendez acknowledged it.

"Well," Mendez whispered, his smile fully evident now, "shall I be wise to state that God has gifted us with _knowledge_? The fruit itself opened a door to understanding not only man's corruption and curse, but also his desires to either feed it or starve it. And in this, it also presented ideas on overcoming it. Do you not think this to be?"

"Possibly, if we are to truly take evil and know the rebound from it…"

"Then, Salazar, tell me: how evil would the Los Illuminados truly be, in regards to a man who wishes to destroy the corruption of his flesh and soul?"

Salazar gasped, his eyes widening. "W-what!?"

"I said," Mendez growled, his face darkening at once, creepy in the low firelight's orange, "is the Los Illuminados any different from a man who commits himself to God?"

"Of course it is… o-of course… those who seek God seek Him because He _is_ the way out… those who seek the Los Illuminados, on the other hand… they seek… they s-seek the false power of a _parasite_!"

"To those who truly have the knowledge of evil and quest to starve said evil, Salazar, we understand that the parasite is not a lie, but truly _is_ God's providence in our time of need…"

"No! NO! They are… they are a corruption within themselves…"

He tried to sit up, but Mendez's massive hands pressed down hard upon Salazar's arms, pinning him down. Salazar was more terrified than he had ever been before. Mendez looked very imposing. So very imposing.

"F-Father Mendez…?"

Mendez cracked his neck, the bones popping so _loud_ and so _distracting_.

"Those who are blind to his glory…"

"His?"

"…will perish in flame."

"Well spoken, Bitores."

Salazar's heart jumped several stories in place. A new voice had spoken from the corner of the room. Hidden away in the darkness where the firelight touched not. But it was a voice most dark in this moment…

"Saddler!"

The old man did not need Salazar to announce his name, as he had already begun to make his way forward to stand beside Salazar and Father Mendez. But he had changed his clothes in the short time since dinner had abruptly ended. He no longer wore the nice tuxedo but something far stranger. They were robes, they were, dark purple in color and sweeping fluidly and loosely. His head he covered beneath a great hood, his dark face leering out from underneath as he examined the terrified Salazar. Salazar noted the golden insignia crafted onto the front of the robes: a golden Y-like form with several stiches and loops like flower stems. The symbol of the Los Illuminados.

Mendez and Saddler shook hands.

"Thank you so much for getting rid of the butler," Saddler whispered to Salazar. "This will be easier without his annoying interference."

"W-what will…? H-how long have you been-"

"Sitting in here? Only a short while. Mendez opened the window for me so I decided to slip in when the old man had left. I would not want that poor chair to get lonely…"

"How… how are you doing this, Saddler!?"

"Oh, I have a gift. A gift, as Mendez says, from _God_…" He rolled his eyes, his laughter a booming sound most dark and most vile in nature. "God. People always enjoy that name… but let me tell you this: whereas I have no place to question the existence of such a being, I do say this, Salazar: there is no God here, in this room with you, now. You are all alone, as you have always been. The only _God_ you need worry about, Salazar, is yourself. I will show you the path… as I have showed Bitores." He patted Bitores on the shoulder proudly. "And then the true Ascension will take hold, Salazar, just you wait and see."

_No…_ Salazar thought to himself. _He's gotten to Father Mendez!_

"The end of the human race is needed, Ramon," Mendez told Salazar, without hesitation. Salazar gasped. To hear a priest of God…speak of genocide!

"No! No! No, you can't be saying these things, Bitores! Please, don't say these things!"

"Bitores has already been educated, Ramon," Saddler laughed. His old hand swept up and settled nicely upon Mendez's shoulder. "He is one with the true power given to us for the purposes that call for it. I told you these things, introduced the name of Trae Luz, because you are going to be the light of the new world."

"I have no desire to line myself with your cult, Saddler!"

"My dear brother… I have not asked you to do so. I have asked you simply to acknowledge the necessity of power. To acknowledge the goals that it can complete, and the purpose of exploiting them…"

"Leave my castle! Leave it now! Raulfilio! RAUFILIO!"

"GO AHEAD, SALAZAR! SCREAM! SCREAM! AGGHHH!" Saddler's let out a rapturous, mad noise, his insanity fully realized in the expulsion of self-made siren. He then began to laugh, quite merrily, so amused at the idea of it all. Mendez looked rather annoyed, and remained silent. "Raufilio shall not be returning, Salazar, not now, anyway. I made sure of it."

"What have you done?" Salazar whispered, glancing over at the door. Raulfilio had been gone for less than ten minutes…

"I had some…friends… carry him off. Just for now, Salazar, just for now. He needs to stay away long enough for the assimilation to complete, then he will be returned safely. You will, after all, need a guardian."

"A g- Saddler, what are you talking about!?"

"Assimilation, Salazar. Utter, complete, undeniable assimilation. Here." He gestured at Salazar's stomach. "And here." He prodded the young man in the forehead. "I know, I know… for someone so young as you, Salazar… I know it hurts. I know it scares you. But I come as a bringer of Light, as a new Trae Luz… I have given you a gift, and you will know it soon for its colors."

"You… you gave me…" His heart broke. _No…_

"Yes, Salazar. Did you not know? The creature contained within the account… it was placed there by a special woman. A woman who went by the name of Ruona Salazar."

_Mother! _Salazar screamed inside of his head. _NO!_

"She found it, you see, on an excavation to the Antiago Montana de Padre, north of here, in the rock formation that we have come to call Site A. Site A contained broken remnants of the parasite, as it seems they had migrated that way some time back, earlier in the millennium…"

Tears were falling down Salazar's eyes. _How could she…?_

"The remnants were, for the most part, useless, unpreserved and fragmented. Save for one. A creature who had thrived on the dirt, in bacterial form, like a spore of sorts, weakened and contained with a rock sample. It took some time with the extraction, but when they succeeded… it tried to eat the first human within a close proximity. They stopped it from leaping upon the man, of course, containing it inside a quarantine capsule. Your mother specially had the creature taken here, back to the castle, to ensure that she could keep a closer eye upon it as she studied its growth and reactive actions in secret. Your father, had he known the truth, may have had her executed for such a thing."

"Fortunately, we were able to remedy _that_ particular distraction. You never knew him, of course. You were raised by your Mother, and Ruona only ever told you that Senor Juago had died during a plane crash over the Mediterranean… we could not allow him to stand in the way of the resurrection of the Los Illuminados."

"You…you are truly a… a _bastard_, Saddler!" Salazar screamed. Saddler forced down a hand over Salazar's mouth, the taste of some terrible liquid filling his throat. Salazar smelled it foul odor and realized with horror that it was some sort of chemical. His body seized at once, a frozen form becoming fullness as he slinked into corpse posture… all too aware of everything, but paralyzed in place…

"You should remain silent, until I have finished speaking. Do you want to know the truth about what has happened here tonight? I shall tell you, Ramon. Your Mother _paid_ me to ensure that your Father had his little…accident… and do you know to what end? So that she could keep the sample of the living parasite _without _him causing issues with her research. She was quite _alive_ in that fashion. A true beauty, whose obsession with her work spoke volumes of its own natural erotica, don't you think?"

Salazar may have vomited upon hearing of this twisted attraction that Saddler had held for his mother. The old man's insane eyes glinted in the firelight.

"With Juago dead, Ruona was able to manage the castle, and her work, in peace. I aided her in the research, and sought out leads for funding the various excavations. And, of course, the way of the Illuminados enticed her upon another mission as well: to seek out the means of removing the seal placed over the lower vaults of this castle. Juago, of course, had always been distrustful with that specific secret, and had even hidden the means to do so from his own wife. Unfortunate, really, that even after a massive scale, done in secret, of course, of this castle, we could still not locate the secret to removing the seal. But _you_, Salazar… you have been entitled to his legacy, have you not?"

Salazar, unable to move or speak, was screaming on the inside. How could this have all happened!? How could Ruona Salazar have managed this? She was a traitor to the family, as the Trae Luz that Saddler had mentioned had been! She had deserved well the terrible fate that had befallen her in the library! It hurt him so much to hear all of this. To know that she had conspired to have his father murdered… what was that to the name of Salazar?

"Your Mother and I hatched a plan, of course. Your father had held deep connections, and we both knew that surely, these connections would eventually find you upon your rise to power over the castle and give you the secrets that your father had left behind. But we had to ensure that when these people, whoever they were, came to find you, they would come to find a man who was readily set to open the door to the future, and embrace what the Plagas truly meant…"

"Your Mother had the parasite hidden inside of the book, trapped in there and starving slowly, whilst forbidding you to ever open the wardrobe in the library containing the books on the Las Plagas. She understood that you were a curious boy, and you had always had a habit of meddling with things against instruction to do the opposite. She used this, you see, to carve into you a deep interest for the Plagas, in hopes that you would find your way into those books…and in hopes that you would find the parasite that would give you the ultimate power…"

_NO! WHY!? WHY WOULD SHE DO THIS TO ME!?_

"Of course, sadly, after that… well, Ruona was no longer a means for concern. She had played her part, had ensured her contribution to the future… and now that she had entangled you into the Movement, Ruona had but one more duty: she had to make you Master of the Castle immediately. With this entitlement, you would take possession of the Salazar Castle fully, and you would gifted with secrets that awaited a man of that position. You would, of course, have obtained it upon turning eighteen, but we could not wait that long, Salazar. Your mother had to ensure that you were made the castellan early."

"And thus, her final duty…was sacrifice."

_NO! YOU BASTARD, NO!_

"Yes, Salazar…" Saddler closed his eyes sadly but his smile was all too obvious upon his face. "Yes… she had to die, you see. Her death ensured that the title passed onto you at once, the only Salazar left alive once she was dead. Of course, had I asked this of her, she would have refused. A coward in nature, she was, always playing her role behind the scenes in the safety of solitude and assassins. So, of course, I stalked her throughout the castle…"

And with horror, Salazar could remember, at a time, reading one of his mother's diaries following her death. Ruona Salazar had, for some time, feared that an invisible creature had been intent upon seizing her, as she walked the halls of the Salazar Castle. She had written a most disturbing entry, and Salazar had never forgotten it, for he had always held a suspicion that she had been going mad in her final days, and that the things she had accounted for had been the cause of her falling to her death in the library:

_I fear. I fear very much. I cannot walk these halls in peace, because the demon follows me. I know not his face, or his intent. I know this: I hear him whispering in the dark of the corridor when I walk alone. I feel his breath upon me, as I sleep. He is stalking me when I am alone, following me throughout this castle like a hunter teasing me before it leaps. I heard it last night, banging around outside of my bedroom… and I am starting to wonder, just how long shall it be, before the beast about finally devours me…? I wish I had my friend with me. Osmund, I need you more than ever…_

It had been… Saddler!

"I had installed fear within her. Taking my time, of course. Bearing the thought of killing her had been hard. To kill a woman that I desired… I had never done it. Stalking her had been my way with her, to spend her last moments together with her. She had gone into the library, of course, hadn't she, on that fateful night? Seeking books on malevolent spirits, that's what she had told you, right? Up, up, up onto the third floor, and what had happened then, Salazar?" His voice lowered into barely a whisper. "Her life had ended. Her life had ended with a single push of my hand. I was the last thing Ruona ever saw, before she broke her neck on the floor three stories below…"

_Why? Why is this happening!? This has to be a nightmare! It has to be!_

"And now, _castellan_, you have been given a _truly_ grand honor… for your father's friends _did_ come for you, didn't they? One year ago, was it not? Visitors who had come to give to you the secrets that your father had left for you, upon your coronation? I wonder… where is the secret now? Help us unseal the gift from God, as you would believe, Salazar. Help us cleanse the world… because the world is in need of cleansing. But don't worry… your blinded fear of these things shall not prevail, no. We will ensure of it. Your Mother had the parasite placed into that book because you, Salazar, needed it. She left it there so that one day, you would find it, and you could join with it, Salazar! And now that it is inside of you…" He placed a clawed hand upon Salazar's stomach. "The change is going to be magnificent!"

Salazar went out. The stress of it was far too much for him, as his mind began to cripple. Blackness took him, for he no longer bore the mental strength comprehend with the situation as it was…

A broken man died…


	4. Chapter 4

It was crawling, crawling, crawling! So many bugs in every direction, of every kind of the species in tact with a lustful hunger for his flesh and bones. He felt raped by their pinprick of footprints, tortured by their presence which induced the _knowledge_ of the presence, a far worse concept than the physical acknowledgment.

There were hundreds of bugs crawling around inside of Salazar's mind, chirping loudly, biting bits of his brain off, even urinating and laying eggs within the strands of nerves. Eating him… eating him from inside!

"NO!" Salazar screamed, tears flooding down his face as he struggled against the steel clad restraints, laying bare naked upon the freezing cold table. The room where he lay confined… a lab of sorts, something that looked terribly like a surgical ward. There were tabletops with beakers filled with the strangest colored oils, letting off scents that reminded him of burnt, aged rubber. There was a smaller, wheeled table of metal with shining, polished surgical tools of the most heinous nature: scalpels and surgical scissors and even some half-filled syringes, filled with a most distrustful colored liquid: greenish-brown, the color of sewage.

_Where am I_?

Where was he? He had never seen this place before, had never beheld such a horrible atmosphere… the castle could get eerie at night, yes, but it was just a large, empty mausoleum of memory. This place… it felt wrong. It felt unwelcoming.

"Saddler!" Salazar screamed furiously, still seeing the bugs inside of his head that were not truly there. "Saddler! Come out and face me, Saddler! Now!"

He could not find a hope to fight the steel bearings that held him in place. A tactic was needed, if he was to escape. An orderly, perhaps? This seemed to be a hospital of sorts. There had to be a nurse or a doctor somewhere on call. But as he strained his neck about, seeking for a nearby device, he saw not a device for calling in aid. Just emptiness in the cold void that surrounded his bed.

He began to cry, softly, as he lay there in utter lack of knowledge of what was to come. Long ago had he been forced to shed his childishness, with the death (now known murder) of Ruona Salazar. He had shed child-like viewpoint for strong, independent castellan with an order that was expected of such blood, and Raufilio had been there to guide him through it all. Without Raufilio, all had been useless to pursue such power and demand. He was only sixteen years old. In many cases, he still held onto a great deal of childishness, but it had been forced deep down, hidden away like the Plaga that Saddler so desperately craved. Now, that childishness had broken free, as Salazar hoped the Plaga would not, as his tears call full power over his mind and he bawled like a lone baba caught alone in a terrible rainstorm.

_Why is this happening? Why is THIS HAPPENING!? MOTHER, WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO YOUR OWN SON!? WHY!? WHY!?_

He hated her. For the first time in his life, Ramon Salazar truly detested the woman who had given birth to him. She had never been the best mother, of course, tending to spend more time with her secret studies than with her own son, but he had loved here nonetheless, had craved her attentions as much as he had her approvals, and yet now… now he had been driven to that which he had secretly feared would one day find him: a hatred for the soul, mind, and spirit of Ruona Salazar.

Of course, Saddler had been the one to pull the string to this Uprisen Puppet Show, had he not…? He, who had conspired with Ruona to not only murder Salazar's father but also infect Salazar with the last living sample of the Las Plagas… Saddler, once a truly admired family friend despite his damning beliefs, had betrayed him, and had betrayed the purpose that had been established for the Salazar family: he was enemy now. Heartbreakingly, he was enemy.

And not only him, either. To think that the countess of the Salazar family could have betrayed her own family, soiled the names of countless generations of Salazars who had spilled immeasurable amounts of blood and sweat to obtain their status of today… it was a nightmare all on its own.

_"Salazar, you keep to what you know best, and you hold onto it. Because one day, a choice is going to have to be made. And when that time comes… you will be the pedestal of the world as we know it_."

But your words meant nothing now, Ruona. Nothing at all. They were as worthless as your name, now that the truth had been disclosed. You could keep the legacy that you had so desperately craved, for it was not of Ramon Salazar's bearing. He had been freed, a long time ago, from the chains of Ruona's command. It no longer mattered what had been the will of the Countess, but rather, what his own will had come to be, come to mean… this was his torch that he held, in order to truly live up to Ruona's word and become the pedestal: to become the pedestal, he had to defy the teachings that she had desired of him. It was the same concept of recognizing evil's presence in order to defy it. As Mendez had said…

_Mendez…_

Mendez had been everything but a traitor. He had held a higher rank in the sights of Salazar than the detestable Saddler had once held. Mendez had led the local church of the village Madre de Verde, a Christian church of its own special way. Mendez had been a priest there for thirty years, had led so many people to find the truth of salvation. He had never been one for the cults of this world, had led a long life of campaign against such things. But Saddler had poisoned the man's mind, had made him defy God in exchange for some unearthly promise of power… an evil power that all lay on the decisions of Ramon Salazar.

A power that lay hidden beneath Salazar Castle…

_Saddler, what have you done?_

"How much longer must we wait?" Bitores Mendez asked impatiently from the corner of the Scarlet Domain. The Scarlet Domain had recently been the name given to Osmund Saddler's newest lodgings. The old island of Come Niños had once been a private military operation, home to a special select of the Spanish Armed Forces of 1943, but since then, it had been abandoned after a nuclear spill off the coast of the nearby region of Tatalia that had poisoned a massive sweep of the ocean water for several months on end. The radiation was never fully removed from that region, and the dangers that it imposed to the armed forces was far too great to risk: the great complex had been abandoned, and years later, condemned as unsafe when the uncared for frameworks had begun to rust and break down.

The Salazar family had then gone on to purchase the island for themselves, in hopes that one day, they would be able to refurbish it and establish it as a private island for their family, although much neglect went on for that matter and it was never accomplished as desired. The old ruins of the city of Vernetchi still stood within these island grounds, merged with the military base that had once held dear for the army, and now, it was still abandoned… still lost… save for one man. Osmund Saddler had found a peace here like he had never done before. The island reminded him of himself: apart.

Now, he held the Scarlet Domain, a place of his own design. Deep red lamps burned down from the ceiling, casting a shade of scarlet over the decently sized chamber, illuminating down upon the tall, comfortably pillowed chair that Saddler had installed into the room. His personal throne. A seed to the empire that he would build.

Saddler himself sat at ease upon the chair, tapping him thumbs lightly as he looked about the room.

"Hmm… that's a very good question, Bitores. You sound impatient."

"I _am_ impatient, Saddler. My wife and my daughter are as much my priority as-"

"As what, exactly? The future of the planet Earth, perhaps? The welfare of the billions, the good of the masses?"

"Exac- no. No! Not more important than those things, no, but why am I still needed, Osmund? I am a father in more than one way."

"They will survive you being gone from home for the first time in years, Bitores, I am sure of it. You are needed here because the results of this experiment will be unpredictable, and I shall very much need your help if the worst comes to be."

"The worst will not come to be, Osmund. These things are bound to the Salazar family. This family has always possessed the gift to temper the parasite and utilize it for their biological needs. Ramon will be no different."

"Perhaps so. But it is not a risk I am prepared to take. I would rather have you here, in case your brute strength is needed, Bitores."

"Brute strength!?" Mendez looked insulted, and he leered savagely at Saddler. "I am no enforcer, Osmund! I am not here to be your bodyguard or your soldier! I am here because you asked me to help him stay calm, and focused upon the agenda. "

"And you see how well that went, didn't you, Bitores? His resentment, his anger-"

"YOU INSTALLED IT BY TELLING HIM THE TRUTH!" Mendez roared furiously, banging a fist hard against the metal wall. It clanged loudly in the solitude of the room, a ring of a deep bell hidden with framework of aged construction. Dust fell from the ceiling and onto his head, but he ignored it. "Why did you have to bring that up, eh!? Why did you have to bring it up right there and then!? How could we expect him to trust the goals if-"

"If what, Bitores?" Saddler cut in darkly, crisply. "If what, Bitores? If he questioned our true aims, our ambitions? He knows them better than anyone else, now, I gather. Salazar is no fool. At his age, his mental capabilities are extraordinary, as his family intended. He knows what I am going to do, knows the consequences that will arise from such actions. I am blessed that he is no fool, Bitores. But the parasite will help him see, Bitores. It will show him all, Bitores! He will know soon, Bitores!" Saddler was getting angrier, more frenzies in his speech as his eyes bulged and he began to lose his usual cool. "He will see all there is to see, Bitores! The destiny that Ruona Salazar left within him is coming, Bitores!"

"Enough!" Mendez snapped, striding back and forth as he contemplated the situation.

Saddler, breathing hard, sat back against the comfort his chair, closing his eyes to regain collectiveness. He _never _lost his cool like that. Never. He had always established himself as a man who thrived upon the peace of the situation. The anticipation of what was coming was haunting him in a negative way.

"I am sorry, Bitores."

"Don't say my name anymore, I've heard it enough times already!"

"Silence. Now, listen to me. Salazar is scared. Probably more scared than he has ever been in his entire pampered life. Raufilio the Butler has been his catalyst, and in order to ensure that he can develop a sense of positive gesture in this regard, I believe that Raufilio may be the key to setting those stepping stones for acceptance. Is the man ready?"

"He's been sitting inside of the cells for the past ten hours, you know this. Demanding release and information concerning Ramon every time I visit him with food."

"Well, I would think it in the best of common decency to allow him a regroup, then. It's an essential part."

"A regroup? But if they're together-"

"They can do absolutely nothing. The butler is old beyond his years. Old, and useless without a weapon. This island is massive, and I do not think that Salazar could escape the two of us, Bitores. Ruona prepared me for these days, you know this."

Mendez gave Saddler a dark look. Yes, he knew about that. He knew about it quite very well…

_Abomination_.

"Bitores, I would like for the butler and the castellan to be brought together during their brief stay here. It will calm Ramon to have someone he can trust there, and as we have established ourselves as contrary to that status, I believe Raufilio may be able to bring him into a docile state. And docile is exactly what we need in our young friend. Only then can the parasite truly take form. It requires a calm atmosphere for its growth. The stress in Salazar's body would only disrupt its sleep and not allow it to shift into the next phases."

"Is that right" Mendez somehow doubted that, but Saddler nodded reassuringly, smiling a smile of a man who must simply be trusted for all that he said, for that which he promised without a doubt.

"Salazar no longer trusts me, Bitores. You could, however."

"In essence, I do not know what to believe or who to trust, Saddler. Long has past the time when I was a man of God, Saddler."

"I helped you see the light, in truth."

"You helped me see that I was going about my intentions the wrong way, is what you did…"

"And what _were_ your intentions, Bitores?"

Mendez frowned. His eyes downcast towards the floor, as his mind reeled with the memories. Children running to hug him tightly as he awaited them upon the steps of the church, their laughter and praising welcomes mixed in with his own… his wife gesturing for him as the firelight witnessed another night of consummation… and the prayers that he and his brother Raoul had shared, during the most testing times of their lives…

His faith felt suffocated. Broken into something that tormented him on the inside. Was what he was doing truly the answer? Had God truly given them the Las Plagas to fight the corruption of the body…? If we here to believe that this _was_ the will of God, then perhaps he could still align himself with the Father… but if not, and Saddler managed to deceive him into doing something truly damning…

_What Hell awaits me, I wonder? What Hell awaits me?_

"My intentions were as yours, Osmund. Purification, but not on the scale nor by the standards that you pursue in that regard."

"You're afraid to shed blood," Saddler noted, understanding the fear that Bitores Mendez held in the actions that were needed for the cleansing of the world.

Mendez nodded. "Of course I am afraid to shed blood. Are we not called to be merciful, where mercy is needed? Are we not called to take the more sacrificial actions, to take on the suffering of others? The flesh is corrupt, yes, but so too are the ambitions of man who seek to combat that corruption with a power like this… with a plan that could bring about _abominations_, Osmund! Have you ever considered that God and the Los Illuminados are _not_ on the same level?"

Saddler grinned. "Beautiful words, aren't they? Beautiful words."

"What do you mean!?" Mendez demanded.

"What do you think I mean, Bitores? I mean exactly what I have said and I put no sugarcoated crap in between the fine lines! The truth of the matter is that you are afraid because you are bound by the social norm of your kind: that to seek power is an abomination within itself, that you are not called to take actions for yourselves, but rather rely upon the holier powers without taking initiative! Take a stand, Bitores, and become a deity within yourself!"

Mendez took several steps back, shocked at the very idea of Saddler's evil words. Such blasphemy physically made him feel sick to his stomach, and to hear them spoken by a man who had once been the definition of friend… it was terrifying, to say the least. An idea like no other. Where had Osmund the Pilgrim of Understanding gone? Once he had been a man who had questioned not the Divine Plan… not a man who had taken it upon himself to _create_ the Divine Plan. Such things were beyond the power of corrupted mankind!

"I am no deity, Osmund, nor is it my place to be one."

"Then what are you, my friend?" Saddler smiled.

Mendez did not answer at once. The large man turned his back upon Saddler, and made his way for the door leading out of the chamber. Just as the electronic doors slid open, he turned back to face the dark man sitting upon the throne, a single tear falling down his face.

"Apparently… I'm the devil."

And with that, Bitores Mendez vanished through the door, leaving Osmund Saddler sitting in his own solitude, breathing in the fresh air of victory. He sighed with the deepest content that held him in place. This truly was the start of the new world. He would ensure to make Cambier proud. _Cambier, you, my good sir, shall be pleased to know that your dreams will become reality: the cleansing is coming. You need not fear. The human race will be purged, as you have asked of me. _

He was sure that the demon Cambier of old legend could not hear his words even now as he spoke, but it meant little anyway. He cared not if an ancient demon acknowledged his work for what it was. He himself acknowledged what it was because he himself desired it. He had found a place for himself in this world, and it held a less modest status than Bitores Mendez dared to speak aloud. He did not fear the thought of being honest: the end was coming for the human race, and he would ensure that it was he, Osmund Saddler, who set forth the ways to purify the corruption of the world. Far too long had it degraded into a pit of blackness, a disgusting wasteland of idiotic drunks and whores. Their presence insulted him, he, Osmund Saddler, who would come to be the new "god" of the world. He had no aspirations, of course, for being worshipped, or being idolized. In fact, the idea of being hated was almost a pleasure to him: to live in repulsion meant that he had vectored in what he set out to do, for the world would always hate its heroes.

As he sat there, thriving on these evil thoughts, his mind was at peace. There were so many pieces to this puzzle. One of them, of course, sat in his pocket, and he pulled the photograph out now, studying closely the people captured within it. Beautiful girls. Very beautiful girls. Curly brown hair and piercing eyes, Jenna and Barbara Bush looked very happy to have their photograph taken together for the world to see.

The president of the United States would be the major key to this entire pursuit, and Jenna and Barbara would be the locksmith duo. The abduction of the president's two daughters would be a most interesting mission. They were nearing college age by now, the two girls would sit well to have their perceptions opened, if only to influence the president. That was, of course, assuming that the man could stay in office long enough. Long enough for their plans to come into fruition. In all honesty, it mattered not who found himself or herself within the Oval Office. It would not change the pursuit of Osmund Saddler. Whether it would the Bush Sisters or some other child, the president would one day feel his power for what it was: because the world needed cleansing. And Osmund Saddler was ready to take it all upon himself.


End file.
